


Breaking Bread with a Killer?

by JennyRad



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Getting Together, Post-Episode: s16e18 Mona Lisa, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 15:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19405846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyRad/pseuds/JennyRad
Summary: What I think should have happened after s16e18, Mona Lisa ...





	1. Ellie's viewpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Practically un-alpha'd. Literally the first fic I've ever finished. And probably rife with Briticisms - I tried to Americanise, or at least neutralise, but I suspect I've missed some; please let me know if you spot any!

_ “Pick up, pick up, pick up” _ , Ellie muttered to herself, listening to the ringing of Nick’s phone and feeling a slight sense of deja vu.

“Agent Bishop. I hope this isn’t a call in to work, I don’t think that it would be wise.”

“Oh, no. No, nothing like that - the B and C teams are on call, we’re definitely off-duty. No. Agent Torres, I’m sorry, I realise I must be the last person you want to talk to right now, but I could not shake - I - oh, this sounds dumb. But I don’t think Clay would forgive me right now if I didn’t - didn’t call to ask, on his behalf, if you needed anything.” She paused, and took a breath. If Nick wanted her to leave him alone, she needed to put the phone down and leave him alone. She knew that.  _ It’s not about me,  _ she reminded herself;  _ it’s about what he needs, now. _ “Well. I’m sorry. If there isn’t anything, I’ll just leave you in peace. But please let me know if - if there’s anything …”

“Ellie.” Nick sounded choked, she thought; definitely not happy. “I’m not sure if I want to talk to you right now. But I am sure that I really don’t want to be alone … can I come over?”

“Of course! Or I can come to you if that would be easier? Or I could call Jimmy or Tim if you wanted company that wasn’t me …”

“That would be pointless.”

As Ellie took a breath to ask what he meant by that, her doorbell rang. “Hang on, that was the door, I’m just going to open … oh!” Nick stood on the step in running gear, clearly having been out in the rain for long enough to get completely soaked. Without thinking, Ellie dropped her phone onto the table by the door and opened her arms. Nick shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped into the embrace, burying his face in her neck with a strangled sob. Time stretched as they both clung to the comfort, until Nick lifted his head and drew back.

“I’m sorry, Ellie, I seem to have got you all wet.” Their eyes met and through Nick’s serious look a glimmer of heat and humour started to shine while Ellie wondered whether to react to the innuendo.  _ On balance,  _ she thought,  _ this is not the time. _

“I’m waterproof! But you must be freezing … luckily last time my brothers were here Rob left some sweats in the drier and I’ve still got them … here -” Nick pulled off his shoes and followed her to a cupboard where she rummaged, handing him first sweats and then a towel. “Go on. Shower. Then you can explain what you were doing in the rain … have you eaten?” At his headshake, she smiled: “Mom’s freezer mac and cheese it is, then - go, get dry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

_ Honestly. About the only circumstances Nick could hug me that hard and I  _ **_wouldn’t_ ** _ even think about getting, hah, wet … and he has to say  _ **_that._ ** _ Pull yourself together, girl; you are not going to make anything better long-term by thinking about … that … _

Ellie was just pulling garlic bread from the oven as she heard Nick start her washer-dryer -  _ so useful,  _ she thought,  _ when an emergency guest is practical about it _ and emerge into her kitchen.

“Better? What were you doing out in the rain anyway? Wine?”

Nick hesitated. “Yeah, I guess. I - thanks - when I got home I poured a bourbon and then I thought, no, I don’t want to do that, but I knew if I stayed home I would get drunk. So I went for a run. Just as your call came, I realised I’d - well, got almost here. I wasn’t thinking about where I was going.”

Ellie looked worried. “Should I put the wine away?”

“No, no. Wine with dinner and company is fine. Bourbon on my own at home instead of dinner, that’s only for happy days, that’s the rule.”

“Good rule.”

As they ate, a veneer of normality began to settle over them - talking about how Kasie was settling in, about what on earth Becky at Goat Yoga thought she was doing wearing a crop-top to have goats scamper over her back (tiny little hooves can be sharp), speculating about whether Jimmy’s father-in-law’s new attitude to his son and son-in-law was likely to remain or to revert to the old patterns.

“Ice cream and Top Gear? I have the latest episode queued up on the DVR - and the 2004 box set in the DVD player. Apparently Jeremy Clarkson is testing the fuel economy of an Audi - I want to see him trying to drive economically.”

“Ohh, yeah. C’mon.” Grabbing the wine bottle and glasses, Nick made his way through to Ellie’s sofa, dropping himself into the corner he knew she usually sat in. Putting the wine on the table as she followed him with the ice cream bowls, he spread his arms and grinned at her. Twitching an eyebrow but otherwise declining to comment, she handed him a bowl and spoon and settled herself against his shoulder as she cued up the Top Gear.

Three episodes later, Ellie wondered how she’d got where she was - snuggled up to a fast asleep Nick who was holding her close.  _ Given the choice between waking him by getting up, and just going to sleep … I’m glad I have smart lights in here  _ she concluded, pulling a throw from the back of the sofa over them, switching off the TV, dimming the lights, and snuggling up more comfortably.


	2. Nick's point of view

_ What happened there? _ Nick asked himself, surfacing.  _ It’s … 2am … and I’m on Ellie’s sofa, holding her like a teddy bear, and she’s fast asleep. How … what? Not that I’m complaining, except that I really need the restroom. Oh, well. _ Lifting Ellie gently from his lap, he turned to settle her back onto the sofa when she mumbled a wordless query. “Need the restroom, baby”.

“OK. Come back then …” she mumbled, turning her face into the warm patch he’d left.

Nick stood in Ellie’s bathroom and praised her practicality as he rummaged for the emergency toothbrush he knew she kept for unexpected guests.  _ What now, though? Well … keep going and see what the morning brings, I guess. _

When he got back to the living area his heart sank, though, to see the lights on dimly and Ellie sitting cross-legged on the sofa, pleating the throw nervously in her hands. 

“Hey. Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“No, it’s OK … Cleaning my teeth and washing my face are a good idea anyway. And besides, my bed is more comfortable than the couch.” She rose, folding the throw, and somehow, Nick thought, the ease and comfort of the previous evening had been stripped away.

“Sure.” He walked over and took the throw from her and started moving to settle himself back onto the couch.

“No, I mean … I mean … I haven’t been sleeping well since I got the orders to go onto that damned boat and tonight I just fell asleep straight away and … I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but … I mean, feel free to join me. If you like. Go warm the bed up while I wash.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you sure?” She nodded. “Well. OK. I sure didn’t expect to fall asleep just like that tonight either so … what side of the bed do you prefer?”

“I’m not fussed really - the nightstand on the left has my stuff on it.”

_ Play it by ear, Torres _ , he said to himself.  _ Gut says this is the right thing to do. I’ve thought often enough about sharing Ellie’s bed and if this isn’t exactly what I’d been thinking of it still sounds like the best thing in the world right now. Warm the bed. RIght. And no nosing, man, no looking and thinking, you have a job to do. Warm the bed. And be able to feign sleep when she gets to bed, avoid the awkwardness. _

Nick surfaced again when the sun broke through the curtains and was surprised to find himself, this time, the little spoon - Ellie comfortably pressed against his back, her hand on his chest and his hands over hers.  _ God, I could get used to this. Aaaaaand it’s probably just as well we’re spooning  _ **_this_ ** _ way around or she’d have a very clear idea she probably doesn’t want about just how much I like it …! _

Easing himself from under her arm, pulling back on the hoodie he’d apparently shed some time in the night, he made his way back through to the kitchen and put coffee on. He was just putting toast on when Ellie, yawning, wandered into the kitchen.

“Oooh, scrambled eggs! And … thank you.” She clutched the coffee he passed to her, inhaling the steam happily. “Best kind of overnight guest ever, cooking breakfast. Thank you.”

He grinned as he slid a plate of eggs on toast in front of her. “Seemed like the least I could do. I … did not expect to sleep well last night, but I did. Plus, I need a sensible breakfast; I have a trial session with SecNav’s personal trainer at 11 - a former marine, security-cleared up to the ceiling and totally trustworthy, Director Vance said … and, apparently, looking forward to putting someone **fit** through their paces.” He did a little shimmy, smirking smugly while Ellie laughed.

“That sounds like a good idea. I’d been wondering who to ask to find a trainer you could trust … going right to the top, good solution.”

“I didn’t even have to ask - I don’t know if it was the Director’s idea or Jack put him up to it or what, he just found me before I left to tell me it was all set up. I’m still not always completely used to this ‘being on a team’ thing but, man, this is good.”

“Nice. Look, Nick … if you don’t want to talk about it I’ll shut up now, but … there’s no excuse for what I said, but …” All smirks had left Nick’s face now; he looked at her and nodded for her to continue. “I don’t know if you thought about what would have happened if you’d answered differently?” He frowned and shook his head. “Suppose … my worst-case scenario was that someone had manipulated you, made you believe that that girl was a threat … in which case, we needed to know that’s what had happened, because we’d be looking for different evidence and things. I knew you hadn’t killed her in cold blood! You’re a good man, you’re not a murderer - but you can’t say you wouldn’t kill in defence of yourself, of innocents, of your country, of loved ones … So if someone knew enough about you to roofy you, they could also know enough to know  **that** about you, and use it against you in your drugged state. In which case, I’d still have been right by your side; finding out what happened, clearing your name, getting whatever support you needed … I’ve got your back, Nick, you need to know that. I need you to know that. I just … was trying to think through so many permutations of what could have happened that I forgot to be careful when I was saying things out loud.”

Nick stared intently at her and nodded, entirely lost for words. “And I’m so deeply sorry that I spoke carelessly and hurt you; I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for hurting you even if you forgive me.”

He sighed and stepped over to her, pulling her into a hug again. Cheek-to-cheek, so that he didn’t need to look at her pleading, distressed face any longer, he took a deep breath and said “I forgive you. I had worked out already that you didn’t mean it as ‘accusing me of murder’, and … yeah. It’s OK. I’m not saying I’m not still feeling sore, but it’s not because of you. OK?”

“OK,” she murmured into his shoulder. “And thank you.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and reinserted her nose into her coffee mug.

“So what’s your plan for today, then?”

“Oh, you know - nothing exciting. Laundry. An hour of Pashto revision, I’m getting rusty. Painting, probably … calm and quiet is the idea. You? Aside from seeing the trainer?”

“Also nothing special - monthly call with Amanda this afternoon - yes, I’ll give her your love and yes I can tell you now she’ll send hers to you - no other particular plans. Come over for dinner this evening?

“Are you cooking?”

“Of course I’m cooking.”

“Then of course I’m coming.”

Nick grinned. “Aaaaand … look, in case you think it would help … make it easier to sleep … bring stuff so you can stay if you want to?”

“I … yes. Thank you. I think that would be a good option to keep open, if you don’t mind. Or if you think it would help you.”

He nodded. “Thanks. Maybe? Keeping the option open sounds good.”

  
  
  


_ I can’t believe I’m nervous about this _ , Nick thought.  _ Just a casual dinner between friends … with options open. But, God, how I want …  _ The doorbell went as he stirred the dinner pot.  _ Oh. _ He felt his heart fill and rise and an involuntary grin spread across his face as he looked at Ellie - her clothes were a study in deliberately casual but she had definitely curled her hair carefully and that was certainly a bit more make-up than she usually wore of a Saturday evening. And it was freshly applied, too, he would swear - she hadn’t had an unexpectedly-dressy afternoon and not taken the makeup off.  _ Plan A is a Go, I repeat, plan A is a go. No rush, nice and easy does it. _ “Hi Ellie.”

“Hi, Nick. How was the personal trainer?” Toe-ing off her shoes and dropping her bag -  _ her bag _ , Nick noted to himself,  _ she has definitely kept the option of staying open, by the size of that bag _ \- she followed him through to the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively at the savoury smells from the pot.

“Evil. Sheer, human evil. Worked me harder than Jordan ever did.”

“Excellent! Just what you wanted, presumably?”

“Ohhh, yeah. I’m feeling it now and it’ll be worse tomorrow but, yeah.” Nick preened and flexed a little in time to his carefully-chosen background music, and his smirk deepened as Ellie laughed at him, because she was certainly watching him carefully at the same time as laughing. Their eyes met and held and - he was fairly sure - both of their smiles turned pretty goofy. Before he could be tempted into rushing Plan A, a timer went off and he turned back to the stove. “Wine’s in the fridge, Ell, you know where the glasses and corkscrew are, can you get them while I plate?”

They moved around each other in the kitchen like the well-adjusted team they were on a day-to-day basis, and Nick felt a rush of want again. Suppressing himself for the time being - he knew his Ellie and he knew he needed to feed her - he served up. The meal went smoothly and comfortably, Ellie full of compliments as usual for his culinary skills. And as she pushed away her plate after their round of seconds, the music changed.

“Ooh! I like this track - dance with me, Ell!” Nick jumped to his feet and put out a hand. Ellie looked a trifle sceptical - did she think she was being toyed with? - but rose and took Nick’s hand willingly enough. She squeaked with surprise as he pulled her into a traditional hold, but followed his lead smoothly and added a few twirls and flourishes of her own as the music flowed through an assortment of fast tracks. Nick could feel his own heart pounding and breath shortening from more than just the exertion, and was fairly sure she was feeling the same. And then the music mellowed and slowed and, gently and evenly, he drew Ellie closer to him, leaned their foreheads together and moved the hand that had been holding hers up to her cheek. As he drew breath to speak he felt a great sense of relief when she mirrored his movement, her free hand rising to the back of his neck.

“Do we need to … talk about rule twelve?”

Ellie looked startled - twitched in genuine surprise. “Rule twelve? I don’t think that’s important, not …”

“You don’t? Law-abiding rule-loving Ellie? Does that mean …?”

“I mean, if we want the same things, rule twelve can be solved. There are, oh, so many solutions.”

“If we want the same things? What do you want, Ellie?”

She bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment; stilled in their gentle swaying to the music and then, with a burst of determination Nick could physically feel, replied. “This. Us.  **You** . Lazy weekend breakfasts and evenings in front of the TV; arguing about whose turn it is to wash up or what film to watch; taking turns to cook; I want holidays in the sun and for party animal Nick to take me dancing so I can feel smug when other people eye him up. I want to persuade you to try watching Star Wars - by whatever incentives it takes - and hide behind you when you make me watch horror movies; I want to go to sleep next to you and wake up knowing you’ll make the coffee. If everything goes well I want - I have a mental picture of bright, beautiful, happy children, and of looking forward, just a little bit, to them leaving home so we have time to be just the two of us again. I want you to have my back and be by my side in everything not just at work, or even not at work at all if that’s how it has to be - I would rather work without you and come home to you than carry on the other way around.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. “And I want you to want that. What  **do** you want?” She opened her eyes and looked at him intently.

“I think that may have been the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. That, I want that, I am all in for all of that. Ellie …” He wasn’t sure which of them moved, or perhaps they initiated the kiss together, but he was fairly sure as he lost himself in her mouth and her touch and his feeling of utter joy that it was her who manoeuvred him backwards until he hit the sofa and sat down, pulling her down with him as he got lost in her kisses.


End file.
